Life Before You
by NCISgirl1527
Summary: Nate. Sophie. Eliot. Parker. Hardison. Each of them had a life before they joined the team, but what was it like for each of them?  A look into what they might have done before they joined the team.  Read, Review, Enjoy.
1. Nate: Christmas

**_Chapter 1. Alright so I wanted some story that could cover the gap between now and December so I thought I would go with this. It is a collection of snapshots of the team's life. The only thing is that it is all set before the start of season one. I thought it would be interesting._**

_**Spoilers: None**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Leverage**_

_**Character: Nate**_

"Daddy!" a small boy screamed with all the excitement of a five year old on Christmas morning. "Mommy." The happy boy climbed up onto his parents' bed and began jumping up and down in excitement. "It's time to see what Santa brought!"

"Is it now?" Nate asked pretending to be serious as Maggie groaned a buried her head in the pillow.

"Yes," Sam replied dead seriously, "It's Christmas."

"You sure about that buddy?" Nate asked his son fondly.

"Yes," he replied now sounding worried that his father had forgotten about Christmas, "We gave the reindeer carrots last night. And cookies," Sam's eyes lit up like the lights on a tree, "We need to go see if Santa ate his cookies and milk."

"Okay," Nate told his bouncing son, "Give your mother and I a few minutes, and then we can all go down together."

"How long is a few minutes?" Sam demanded sitting back on his heels and surveying his father. Nate almost had to laugh because he looked so much like Maggie.

"Here," Nate said handing Sam his watch, which read seven forty five. "When the big hand is pointing at the twelve you can come back and knock on the door. Deal?"

Sam considered it for a moment then held out his hand for Nate to shake. "Deal," he said with a serious nod of the head. With that he climbed down off his parents bed and left the room closing the door behind him.

"That's your cue honey," Nate told his wife as he leaned over her trailing a line of kisses up her neck until he reached her mouth.

"Do I have to?" she asked between kisses. "Can't we just stay here all day?"

"I would say yes," Nate replied as Maggie rolled over next to him. "I would defiantly say yes," he amended as he kissed her again, "but if we do we will have a very annoyed five year old banging on our door."

"You're right," Maggie sighed him rolling on to her back next to him on the mattress. "Doesn't mean I wish you weren't…" she added with a sideways smirk.

"I hear you," Nate told his wife, "I hear you."

There was a bang on the door. "Daddy," Sam called, "Mommy. Are you getting ready?"

"Yes," they both called back at the same time. Then they glanced at each other and Maggie burst into laughter, which she muffled in the pillow.

The two of them rolled out of bed and pulled on their bathrobes. Nate then patted his head a few times and considered himself fully prepared. He then turned to watch as Maggie pulled her brush though her strands of golden hair. Once she had done that to her satisfaction she turned to her make-up and pulled out a brush. However before she could apply any of it, Nate took hold of her wrists.

"You don't need it," he told her looking over her shoulder into the mirror.

"Nate," she started to protest, but she was interrupted by a banging on the door.

"Mommy! Daddy!" Sam yelled excitedly, "It is time."

"I'm sorry Sam," Nate told him through the door, "Mommy doesn't think she is pretty enough to come out."

"Of course she is pretty," Sam said matter-o-factly, "Mommy's always pretty." Maggie turned around to glare at him, but he met her with a kiss, and she just shook her head.

"Go," she told him with a smile, "Just go."

"Okay," Nate replied taking hold of her hand and leading her toward the door. As he opened it, Sam screamed happily and threw himself at his parents' legs.

"How is my little boy today?" Maggie asked as she picked her son up.

"I want to see what Santa left," he told her.

"Well then," she replied kissing him on the nose, "What are we waiting for?" She set Sam down on the carpet and pointed to the door to the living room. "Lead the way."

Sam did not need telling twice. He bounded forward pulled open the living room door. Then he remembered what he had told him about always letting the ladies go first and turned to look at his mother.

"Ladies first," he said proudly, "Right Daddy?" Nate nodded proud of his son and Maggie preformed a curtsy with her bathrobe.

"Thank you good sir," she told Sam as she walked into the living room. Sam darted after her, and Nate followed both of them with a smile playing across his lips.

"Look Mommy," Sam said pointing to a pile of presents, "Santa came!"

"Yes he did," Maggie said sharing her son's enthusiasm as he examined the plate that held Santa's cookies.

"Let's open presents," Sam announced excitedly looking at the vast pile of colorful boxes.

"Why don't we eat breakfast first?" Maggie suggested.

"I want to open…" Sam paused as he considered what Maggie had told him about whining. "How about just one?" he suggested.

"I think we could arrange that," Nate said with a glance at his wife who nodded. Sam's face lit up again, and he passed out a present to both his parents before selecting one for himself.

"Mommy first," he told Nate looking towards his mother. Maggie smiled as she gently tore back the paper that covered her package. The paper revealed a jewelry box, which she opened. Inside was a beautiful necklace that looked like it was made of macaroni and giant wooden beads. Sam looked on anxiously as she examined it. "Do you like it?"

"It is beautiful, Sammy," she told him as she slipped the necklace over her head. Sam looked extremely pleased with himself. Then it was his turn to tear open the paper on his package, which revealed half a dozen matchbox cars. He looked like he wanted to start playing with them immediately, but instead he turned to look at his father.

Slowly Nate peeled the paper off his present. It was a framed picture that had been hand drawn by Sam. "It's wonderful buddy," Nate told his son, "Thank you." Sam rewarded him with a smile then he turned to his mother and offered her a car.

Nate smiled down at his picture as Sam and Maggie began playing with the different cars. There were three smiling stick figures standing together. The one on the right had stringy blonde hair and was labeled 'Mommy.' The one in the middle was shorter and labeled 'Me.' On the left side of the picture stood a tall figure with brown hair. That one was labeled 'Daddy.'

_**Did you like it? I am going to aim for a chapter a week but I do not know if I can make it. Anyway please review. **_


	2. Sophie: The First Grift

**_Chapter 2. I guess I forgot to say this in the opening chapter, but each of the characters will have three chapters dedicated to them. Each chapter will be a look in some different part of their life. Here is Sophie's first chapter._**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Sophie. I do own the idiot known as Thomas who you will meet shortly. **_

_**Spoilers: None**_

Sophie felt a small tingle of excitement inside her. Here she was sitting in a limonene that had been paid for by one of the most influential men in Europe. She was wearing flattering red velvet dress with a collar of diamonds, and she was on her way to one of the most expensive museums in Europe. Yet none of this was the cause of her elation. No the excitement she felt today came to from the knowledge that she was about to do something very illegal.

A smile spread across her face. Today she was going to steal something. Quiet honestly it was not the whole matter of receiving the item that intrigued her. She was much more interested in the whole process.

Since she had been a little girl, Sophie had known they she could make people do what she wanted them to do. It was not hard. All it ever took was a few sweet smiles and a promise of something grand. As she got older, she discovered that finding out her mark's greatest desire and capitalizing on it was even easier.

For years she had used those tactics to get her way, but lately that had bored her. So today she was entering a whole new world. She would use her people skills to steal a priceless figurine.

"You are here ma'am," the driver told her as he opened her door.

"Thank you," Sophie told him with a radiant smile. It was game time. Gracefully she stepped out of the car and on to the red carpet leading up to the museum door.

As she reached the top step she caught sight of the security guard…and the key ring dangling from his belt. Suddenly she pitched forward as her shoe went out from under her. The guard caught her.

"I'm so sorry," Sophie told him patting his sides as if checking for injuries.

"Not a problem Mrs." The guard told her as if he could not believe his luck at running into such a pretty girl.

"Miss. Green," she told him with a flirtatious flutter of the eyes, "I'm not married."

"Oh?" the guard asked hopefully, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

"Of course I do," Sophie replied with a slight sideways smile as a few locks of hair fell across her face, "But he is not what you would call a real winner. Stays out late most nights if you know what I mean." The guard nodded as he watched Sophie with an undertone of masculine desire.

She could see it in his eyes, and that was good for her. It meant that her plan was working. He had taken the bait. Now it was her turn to see just how far she could get him to follow that bait. She attempted to stand up, but as soon as she put weight on her right ankle it went out from under her. The guard caught her again.

"Are you alright Miss. Green?" he asked her worriedly.

"Aw…I think I just hurt my ankle a little bit," she told him absently rubbing her shoulder so that her already low cut dress slipped a little bit lower. "And please. Call me Jenny."

"Well Jenny," the guard told her with a rather pathetic attempt at flirtation, "We should probably take you up to the first aid room and have that looked at."

"Well alright," Sophie pretended to reluctantly agree, "If you really insist Mr.…"

"Thomas," he replied as he wrapped his arm around her and led her up the stairs to a restricted part of the building. After a few minutes he led her into the first aid room. "Now why don't you sit up here while I take a look at your ankle?"

Sophie obliged, and Thomas knelt down on the floor to examine her foot. Carefully he slipped off her shoe and examined the foot. Had he actually been paying attention he would have realized there was nothing wrong, but thankfully for Sophie he was oblivious.

"I think you might have to stay here a while," Thomas told her standing up and moving close to her. So close in fact that Sophie could feel his breath on her ear.

"Now Thomas," she whispered back, "I just cannot let you do that to your young bride." He was too stunned by her statement to react as pulled his taser from his belt and pulled the trigger. He crumpled to the floor at her feet. "Sorry," she told him patting his check.

Then she hurried from the room and pulled the door closed behind her. Taking off down the hall she realized that she needed to change. A little remorsefully she ducked into a nearby restroom and pulled off her dress. Underneath she was wearing a crisp clean suit and a museum nametag. Carefully she put the dress and placed it and her purse in an air-vent. With that, she walked back into the hall and began to make her way towards the back storage room.

It was almost too easy. There were no guards. All she had to do was slide the card she had lifted off Thomas through the reader. She made her way into the backroom and looked around at the walls filled with riches. She could have her choice, but there was only one she wanted. Quickly she found the figurine she wanted, and tucked its box under her arm.

Then she made her way back out into the hall. This time it was a little hard, but not much. A guard had appeared outside the door, but her taser took care of him before he knew she was there. After that she saw no one. Ducking into the bathroom she pulled open the air-vent.

There was a certain elation flooding through her as she pulled back on her dress, and slipped the figurine into her handbag. It was that same excitement she had felt before coming in that rekindled as she made her way down the back stairs to the observation part of the museum. However neither her face nor her actions revealed her excitement as she walked though the throngs of people and right out the front door.

It was only back in her limo that she allowed the joy of her accomplishment to over take her and a triumphant smile to break over her face.

**_Did you like it? I was rather fond of it. Please review._**

_**Next Chapter: How did Eliot become a hitter?**_


	3. Eliot: The Reason

**Chapter 3. Okay so I had very little clue what I was going to do for Eliot, but I came up with this idea and fell in love with it. I hope that you like it as much I do. Warning: it is a little depressing and has one swear word. Hope you like it.**

_**Spoilers: None**_

_**Disclaimer: I own her. Now go find out who her is.**_

Eliot Spencer stood in the middle of an empty field with his foot tapping impatiently. They were coming. He knew that they would come because he had challenged them to a fight, and they never turned down a fight. After all why wouldn't they, Eliot was just a socially outcast freshman. They were seniors and the height of cool.

Eliot felt the anger inside him turn from a simmer to a boil in an instant. They had killed her. They had chased her into that alley after school, and they had killed her. She was just an eighth grader. He should have been able to protect her from them, but he had not. Self hatred started to mix with the anger.

The two of them had been walking home from school, and she had accidentally walked into one of the seniors. They had chased her into the alley, and they had hit her. Maybe they had not meant to kill her when they slammed her back into the wall, but they had. Worse than that, they had gotten away with it.

He had told people what had happened, but no one had listened to him. So she died in the hospital a few days later, while the seniors were out a party. They had never gotten any punishment for what they did to her. That was unacceptable.

So this was Eliot's revenge. He had learned how to fight, and he had learned to fight well. He knew that he could beat them in a fight, and so he had challenged them to one. He had given up on the law ever bringing her justice; he was about to do it by himself.

He could see them now. They were walking over the crest of the hill talking and laughing with each other. Clearly they saw no threat from him, and felt no remorse for what they had done. Anger reared up again, but Eliot forced his face to stay clam and relaxed. They would feel his anger, but only when it was time.

"Hey Spencer," the leader of the group jeered at him, "You ready to become a human punching bag."

"I don't know," Eliot replied evenly looking up at the boy towering above him, "Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?" the boy replied almost patronizingly."

"Ready to get you ass kicked," Eliot explained calmly as if he had been asked about the weather.

"Aw little Eliot thinks he is going to win a fight," one of the other boys mocked, "is this because you couldn't defend your little—"

Eliot's punch sent him sprawling onto the grass. "You don't get to say her name," Eliot told the boy angrily standing over him. For a moment the other two were too shocked to move, then they sprung into motion.

Eliot had them both on their backs with in seconds. Now they looked up at him in surprise. Eliot was vaguely pleased with their expressions of shock, and the knowledge that their fate lay in his hands.

"Real men don't have the strength to hit a girl," Eliot told them. He looked at their faced and considered for a moment. He could kill them, and some very insistent part of him wanted that very much. However if he did that he would be no better than them. So he took a calming breath and looked down at them again.

"You don't ever do that again," Eliot instructed them, "because if you do I will find out about it, and I will kill you." The boys nodded in terrified agreement. They all knew what he meant.

The scene may have looked ridiculous to a passer by, who would have scene three large muscular boys at the feet of a much younger one, but the anger Eliot was radiated was enough to keep the other boys on the ground. Not one of them tried to make a move, and Eliot found himself disgusted.

They were nothing more than cowards. Bullies who got a kick out of feeling other peoples fear. Well they did not like it so much from the other side now did they. Eliot glared at them. "And you never tell anyone about this," Eliot instructed them, "or I will find out and I will kill you." The boys all nodded again.

Eliot looked down at them. He wanted to hit them. He wanted to hurt them and make them pay for what they had done, but there was a voice in his head. It spoke in her quiet gentle voice. 'Don't do it Elly,' the voice told him, 'They are someone's family don't make that someone suffer. Just let them go. Do it for me.'

"Go," Eliot told the boys. They did not need telling twice and took off across the field and out of sight.

Eliot sighed as he ran his fingers though his long hair and walked the other way across the field. He ducked into the cover of the trees and kept walking. Finally after ten minutes her reach the edge of the trees. Stepping out of their shelter he made through the rows of weathered stones that filled the graveyard.

Finally he stopped in front of one that was still pure white marble. Time had not yet eroded it. He dropped to his knees beside it.

"Everything I do," Eliot whispered to the rock, "It's all for." He reached out and his fingers began to trace the engraving on the stone.

_Love is stronger than death even though it can't stop death from happening, but no matter how hard death tries it can't separate people from love. It can't take away our memories either. In the end, life is stronger than death._

A single tear rolled down his cheek as he traced the last few lines.

_Julie Marie Spencer_

_1975-1988_

_Beloved Friend, Daughter, and Sister._

_**Did you like it? Please tell me. Please review.**_


	4. Parker: Someday

**_Chapter 4. Parker's turn. There is nothing to say except for that I hope I was able to give Parker the justice she deserves. I found this chapter very fun to write. Enjoy._**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Parker. **_

_**Spoilers: None**_

It was beautiful. It was so very beautiful. As she looked at it, Parker could not help but notice the carefully constructed lines and curves. This was an example of craftsmanship at its best and she loved it. She could spend hours just sitting here and taking in the innate beauty of the safe.

"Parker!" a voice screamed from somewhere down below.

Parker ignored the voice. She was so much happier up here than she could ever be down there. Up here there was a safe haven. No one could touch her up here because no one knew where up here was. Only she knew. She had found this secret place when she had first come to this house six months ago. She did not know what it was about the room, but the impenetrability of the metal structure in front her brought comfort to her. This was the only place in the house where she felt safe.

Down there was another story. Downstairs was scary, and downstairs was dangerous. They were downstairs. In the six months she had lived here, Parker had learned many things. The most important of which was that she should avoid her foster family as much as possible. They did not want to see her, so she stayed out of her way.

"Parker!" the voice bellowed again, "Get down here now!"

This time she scrambled to her feet. She knew that if she did not come this time then her foster mother would come looking for her. If that happened two things would follow. First, she, Parker, would be punished for not coming when called, and second, her hiding space would be revealed. The first thing she could live with, but the second was unacceptable.

"Parker!" the voice yelled for a third time, and Parker heard footsteps start up the stairs.

"Coming!" Parker yelled back as she darted in the hall, determined to put as much space between her and her hiding space as possible.

"One…Two…" the voice counted.

"I'm coming," Parker repeated annoyed as she reached the top of the stairs.

She was greeted by the glaring figure of her foster mother, who was standing at the top of the stairs with both hands on her hips.

"Where have you been?" she demanded of Parker, who was hurriedly smoothing out her shirt.

"Places," Parker replied evasively.

"What have I told you about lying?" the woman replied her beady eyes glaring at the girl in front of her.

"I wasn't lying," Parker replied wrinkling her nose.

"But you weren't answering my question either," her foster mother pointed out.

"No," Parker agreed unconcernedly.

"And why is that?"

"Because I don't want to," Parker replied fiddling with the buttons on her shirt.

"You will look me in the eye when you are talking to me," the woman said the beginnings of anger starting to seep into her tone, "and you will answer the question."

Parker looked up but the disdain was clear from her expression. "No," she replied calmly, "I won't Diane."

She knew that responding this way was going to get her in trouble in a minute or two, but she did not really care. These people were not her family, they were the so called generous people who had taken her into their home. She would rather be out on the streets.

This was no home nor would it ever be. It was just a place where she would live for six months, maybe a year, before moving on to another house and starting over. She did not like it, but she would have to live with it until she was sixteen…or a chance opened up.

"Parker," Diane replied the anger now clearly apparent in her voice, "you will address me as mother or ma'am at all times.

"No," Parker replied after a moment of consideration, "I won't."

"Yes, you will," Diane stated firmly. There was a pause while the unspoken threat hung in the air: 'or we'll send you back.'

"Fine," Parker replied almost indifferently moving towards the stairs and beginning to descend.

"Stop," Diane demanded. Parker ignored her. Diane took a few steps forward and grabbed Parker by the arm. "I told you to stop." Parker did not respond, and Diane yanked her back up the stairs. "I have just about had it with you and your insolence. We took you in and gave you a home when no one else would and this is how you repay us? From this moment on you will be polite and respectful or we send you back where you came from," Diane told her, "Do you understand?"

Parker did not answer. She was aware that Diane's grip on her arm was growing tighter the entire conversation, but the pain did not really bother her anymore.

"Answer the question," Diane demanded again, "Do you understand?"

Parker remained silent.

"I am your mother," Diane started.

This time Parker answered. "No," she told Diane, "You aren't." With that she wrenched her arm from her foster mothers grasp and began to descend the stairs again. Diane was too shocked to stop her.

Parker opened the back door and left the house, unconsciously rubbing her wounded arm with the opposite hand. She could feel a small tinge of anger running through her. Diane was not her mother. How dare she call herself that?

In her life Parker had met a lot of people and a lot of sets of foster parents. She had yet to meet someone she would call mother. Her own had abandoned her when she was just a baby. The succession of foster mothers, some kind, some cruel, and some somewhere in between, had never been able to fill that hole.

Parker had reached the secluded clearing in the woods behind the house and lay down in the center. 'Someday,' she thought looking up at the clouds above her, 'someday I'll have a real family. I will have a father who actually cares about what I'm doing, and a mother who doesn't try to control me. Maybe even some siblings…' Parker smiled.

She liked that thought.

Someday…

**_What did you think? I hope you review._**

_**Next chapter: What do Hackers do when they are teenagers? **_


	5. Hardison: A Trekker

_**Chapter 5. Okay so I am going to try very hard to finish this story by the twelfth of December which is when Leverage starts again. So I will start updating weekend and Wednesday. Because I have ten more chapters. Full disclaimer on this one: I do not like it very much because I cannot write Hardison at all so I gave it my best shot but I'm not sure how it came out. Anyway. Enjoy.**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own them.**_

_**Spoilers: None**_

"Do Doot Do"

The little jingle came out of the speakers as the words 'You Lose' flashed across the screen.

"No," Alec yelled at the game, "No. I will beat you."

"Alec," a soft voice called across the room.

"Yes Nana?" Alec replied obediently turning to face the woman calling his name.

"It's time to go home for dinner," she told him.

"Can I play one more game?" Alec begged.

"Tomorrow," Nana told him.

"I know that I can beat it if I just get one more shot," Alec pleaded, "I've only got one more level to beat. Please."

Nana shook her head. "Tomorrow honey," she told him.

"Please," he begged, "I know I can beat it."

"I'm sure you can too," Nana told him, "but not today. We can come back after school tomorrow."

"But," Alec began to argue.

"Alec," Nana explained calmly, "If we don't leave now there will be no way for you to get all your chores done and eat your dinner before Deep Space Nine comes on."

Alec's eyes went very wide. How had he forgotten that Deep Space Nine was on tonight? It was the thing that he looked forward to the entire school week, and it made Sunday nights so much better. He had not missed an episode since the show premiered in January. He had not missed an episode of The Next Generation since 1990 either.

"Let's go," Alec told Nana grabbing her by the hand a trying to lead her out of the arcade and towards the car. "I have things I need to do."

"Okay," Nana laughed, "I'm coming."

"But we might miss it," Alec exclaimed.

"Honey we have five hours," she reminded him, "I think we are going to be okay on time."

"Okay," Alec agreed finally and a little reluctantly, "If you say so."

"I do," Nana replied calmly.

-0- -0- -0-

"So how was your day Nana?" Alec asked politely as they sat down to dinner. It was one of his favorite meals: meatloaf. He loved almost every kind of meatloaf imaginable, but Nana made the very best meatloaf ever. It was her second best recipe…apple pie was the best. Nana's apple pie was good enough to start a third world war over.

"It was very good," Nana replied conversationally. "I went shopping and bought several things including this." She slid a package wrapped onto the table.

"You didn't have to," Alec told her. He always worried that she spent too much money on him. She needed to have enough to live comfortably on in a few years. Still he contemplated the package on the table wondering what could be in it.

"Oh I think I did," she assured him with a sparkle in her eye. She enjoyed giving him little things from time to time. "After all, what kind of parent would I be if I did not reward you for getting a hundred on your last five math tests?"

"You'd still be a good parent," Alec assured her.

"Just open it," Nana told him with a shake of the head. She did not think that she had ever seen someone argue so hard against being given a gift. It was sweet of Alec to worry about her, but he did not need to. They may not be rich, but she could buy little things here and there.

"Okay," he agreed pulling the package towards him. Slowly and carefully he began to pull the brown paper off the outside of the package. "Oh my gosh." Alec pulled out a paper back book. It was a little beaten around the corners but other than that it was in really good condition. "How did you find it?"

"I saw at one of the stores I was at and thought that maybe it should come home," Nana explained smiling at Alec's obvious delight with his present.

"This is one of the old 1970's episode adaptations," he exclaimed looking at it, "I mean this isn't even a reprint. This is so cool. I have never seen one of there on the shelves."

"So you like it?" Nana asked him.

"I love it," Alec exclaimed, "Thank you, Thank you, Thank you so much." He walked around the table and hugged her.

"Have you finished your homework?" she asked him as he returned to his chair.

"I didn't have any," he told her a little proudly.

"And how did you manage that?" she asked him teasingly, "Do I need to call up your teachers and demand they give you more?"

"No," Alec replied eyes widening, "I did it in school."

"All of it?" She asked, "didn't you have a paper to write for English?"

"I did it at lunch," he explained.

"I must be a very exciting paper to get you to do it at lunch," Nana commented.

"It was," Alec told her, "We had to write a paper that classified things into different groups. We got to pick our topic."

"And what did you pick?" Nana asked with a shake of her head knowing that very few topics could have excited him as much as this one was.

"Star Trek characters," he exclaimed happily.

"And your teacher okayed that?" Nana asked. She really hoped that the teacher had because there were very few things in this world that excited Alec about writing. She knew that he had several stories he had written about the characters of Star Trek, and they were pretty good. It was shame he did not have any place to publish them.

"Yes," Alec nodded enthusiastically, "She's a Trekker too."

"That's wonderful," she told him smiling at his enthusiasm, "Would my little Trekker like to go into the living room, while I clean off the table? We wouldn't want him to miss the beginning of his show."

Alec grinned at her. "Thanks Nana."

He got up, kissed her on the check, and darted into the living room. Seconds later she heard the intro music begin to start. Walking to the doorway she peaked into the living room. Alec was sitting in wrapped attention watching the screen. Nana smiled.

**_Okay so there was that chapter. Every character will have two more chapters. Please Review them. Because I would really love to know what you think._**

_**Next Chapter: Nate is chasing a certain grifter…again…**_


	6. Nate: His Favorite Art Theif

_**Chapter 6. Okay this is Nate's second chapter, though Sophie kind of wanders through because I could not help myself, and that is all I am going to say because I am watching the CMA's**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own them**_

_**Spoilers: None**_

"So we meet again," a woman's voice told him.

Nate spun around to see who had spoken, but he did not need to. He knew that voice. He knew that the very art thief he was chasing had just walked up to him.

"Sophie Devereaux," he greeted her, "Do you by chance have something for me?"

"No," she replied after a moment of fake consideration, "I have something for me though."

"Of course you do," Nate told her nodding slowly. "Can I have it?"

"No," Sophie replied sitting down on the desk in the corner of the room.

"Then I'm going to have to arrest you," Nate told her. It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. He had been chasing Sophie Devereaux on and off for ten years and this was about the fifteenth time he had caught her. He never arrested her.

They had come to an understanding years ago. If he caught her after she stole something, she would give it to him in exchange for her own freedom. Obviously his bosses at the IRS knew nothing of this deal, but it worked for Nate. He had even wondered from time to time if she let him catch her because to his knowledge no one else had ever caught her.

"We both know that's not true," Sophie told him carefully examining one of her nails.

"Soph," Nate told her anger beginning to rise up inside him. "Sam's birthday is the end of the week. I will be back in the states for it, and if I have to throw your ass in jail to do it, believe me, I will."

"I know you will," she replied unconcernedly, "but think about it Nate. In all the years you've been chasing me. Have I ever made you miss your little boy's birthday? Or your anniversary? Or Maggie's birthday? Or Christmas?" She was looking at him now.

"No," he replied with a sigh, "No you haven't." He had noticed several years before that Sophie was very conscientious of those kinds of things. She never made him miss one of those dates and once or twice she had reminded him to get a gift for Maggie. "What do you want Sophie?"

"Just a little companionship," she replied watching him and gauging his reactions. "Is that a crime?"

"Like you care if it is," Nate muttered under his breath. Looking up, he saw the hurt flash quickly through her eyes. A second later, it was gone, but that it had been there at all made Nate feel guilty. "Sorry," he tried to amend, "It's just you sort of picked the wrong kind of work if you want companionship."

She looked at him. "I meet people everyday," she replied with a coy smile.

"Sophie," he started. He knew that she had been put back on the defensive by his comment. "I know you meet people everyday, but they never meet you. They meet your alias. That means you can never really have a relationship with them."

"Damn it Nate," she told him annoyed, "That's why I'm here. You're my friend, and you know me. Please just talk to me tonight, and I will give you the painting, and you can leave."

Nate considered his options. He could tell her no and watch her heart break in her eyes or he could… Who was he kidding? He did not have any options. He cared too much about Sophie to hurt her like that. He could use a night off anyway, and after all, it was only one night.

"What do you want to talk about?" he asked her finally.

A smile lit her face and all signs of desperation faded. "Something," she told him, "Anything really. Tell me about Sam and Maggie."

"Alright," Nate agreed. Under normal circumstances he would never tell a thief or really anyone he met at work about his wife and son. He made too many enemies for that not to be risky, but normal circumstances never really applied to Sophie. "Maggie is doing pretty well. She is very happy with her part time job and even happier with her role as a full time mom."

"I'll bet she is," Sophie replied a slight touch of wistfulness to her voice.

Nate did not question that. There were some things that you learned not to question with Sophie, and that was one of them. He knew if he asked her about it she would deny whatever she was feeling. So he let it slide.

"And Sam is doing well in preschool," Nate told her, "He almost got into a fight the other day over some blocks, but then he just gave them to the other kid saying he did not want to fight." Nate smiled proudly.

"Just like his father," Sophie comment gently, "Never get into a fist fight when you can settle it with words."

"Of course his father also asks for something in return," Nate reminded her with a pointed look.

"I know," she told him with a sweet smile, "And his father will get it in the morning."

"Fair enough," Nate told her with a nod.

It would be a quiet night of talking, and then in the morning, as the first rays of sun played through the window, she would give him the painting and hopefully a plane ticket home. That would be it. There would never be a big exit or a tearful goodbye on Sophie's part. Usually she would just be gone. Sometimes there would be a note, and some times there would not be.

Then months later another artwork would go missing and one of two things would happen. He would catch her, and the scene would repeat, or she would get away, and they would only see each other in passing.

To anybody else the relationship might be strange, but it had never struck either one as such.

To them it was just how it had always been…

How it was supposed to be…

_**Please review. You know you love the two of them. Please tell me so. ;-)**_


	7. Sophie: No Fairytale Ending

**_Chapter 7. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I was a little difficult to write, but I think it turned out alright. Please enjoy it._**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own her.**_

_**Spoilers: The King George Job.**_

'It truly is a beautiful country,' Sophie thought to herself as she looked out across the land in front of her. The night was dark, but a full moon glistened in the sky above illuminating the landscape. It was a beautiful and almost magical sight. Sophie let out a sigh.

It should be beautiful. Tonight should be one of the best nights of her life. Tomorrow should be the best day of her life. She should be spending tonight giddy with excitement and preparing the final elements of the event. She should be spending tomorrow dressed all in white. She would not be…

It was a horrible thing to do, and she knew it. Of course there was nothing about this whole affair that was not nasty. Sighing again, she realized just how much of a mess she had made out of everything. None of it was intentional. She had started with the best intentions…well actually when it all started she had not had any intentions. Still she had never wanted it to turn out this way.

It had all begun very innocently. About a year ago, she had been doing a play in London, and it had not turned out as well as she had hoped that it might. It was starting to seem like they never did… Either way she was just about to leave the theater when he came up to her and given her a rose. It was just a single flower, but at that moment it was the kindest thing anybody could have given her. Then he offered to take her out to dinner. She had accepted.

Looking back, Sophie realized that accepting dinner invitations from men she barely knew was probably not a practice she should continue. After all, it was much more likely to lead to disaster than anything good. Still, a year ago things had looked like they could not possibly get worse. She had been an actress with no prospect of a career maker and an art thief who would have to wait several more months before the chatter would die down enough for her to be able to steal anything of value. Sophie almost smiled. She now knew that things could always get worse.

Actually their relationship, because that night had turned a chance meeting into a relationship, had started off very well. He had taken her places and treated her right. For nearly a year they had been everything that a happy young couple should be. Then he had asked her to marry him, and she had said yes.

Sophie knew now that that moment had been the beginning of the end, but she had not seen it then. She had still been caught up in the magic of love because love was something she had not felt in very many years. It was nice to be loved again, and that was why she did not realize her mistake until the train was too far down the tracks.

It was only now that she saw the mistake. She could not get married and settled down. She was wanted for at least a dozen art thefts on this continent alone. She could not stay in one place very much longer or they would find her. How would she explain that to William? She knew she could not.

But that was not the biggest problem. No the biggest problem was that he called her by another woman's name. He knew the story of another woman's past. If they got married he would be not really be marring Sophie. He would be marring Charlotte. He knew about Charlotte. He knew nothing of Sophie. Yet in a weird way, he knew more about Sophie than almost any other person in the world.

They had grown close over the past year, and Sophie's acceptance of his marriage proposal had been sincere. She really did want to marry him. She wanted that with all her heart, but her head was telling her to run away. Her heart wanted the comfort and devotion she had denied herself of for years, but her head was reminding her why she avoided those things. She knew all too much of heartbreak. She had learned that lesson at an early age, and never forgot it. If you give someone your heart it was all too easy for them to break it into a million pieces.

Maybe that was why she used all the different aliases she did. No one knew her real name, and anyone who ever did had died many years before. The aliases allowed her to get close to people, to learn their secrets and their dreams, without ever putting herself at risk. It was safe…lonely but safe.

Sophie sighed. Time was growing short and if she wanted to do what she had to do, then she would have to do it now. She pulled her trench coat tighter around her body and slid down from the balcony railing. Careful not to make a sound, she turned to face the room.

"William," she whispered looking at the form sleeping in the bed, "I'm so sorry."

He made no sound. Not that she had expected him to… So she picked up the few of her things that she wanted to take with her and made her way towards the door.

Some part of her whished that he would somehow wake up and call her back, but the other part of her knew that even if that happened there would be no fairytale ending. There could never be a fairytale ending when someone of her background was involved or maybe it was just her. Maybe she was not allowed a fairytale ending…

Reaching the doorway, she turned back to look at William. He was still asleep. He had no idea that she was walking out on him, but he would figure out. It broke Sophie's heart to know that she was breaking his, but she knew that it had to be done. If she stayed here any longer she would not be able to do it.

So she took a deep breath.

"I love you William," she whispered into the silence, "I will always love you, and I will always regret having done this to you, but I hope that some day you will know that I did for you, and I hope that someday you will forgive."

She took one more breath.

It was now or never.

So she closed her eyes, and with the strength she had, she turned away. She did not look back, and she did not pause. If she had, she would never have been able to leave, but even all the strength she had could not stop a single tear from falling down her cheek.

_**So what did you think? Please review. **_


	8. Eliot: Chances

_**Chapter 7. Hey people. Here is chapter seven. I hope that you like it because I think it turned out pretty well. It is one of the first ones that I did not have to fight will so that makes me happy. I hope you enjoy.  
Disclaimer: Nope…  
Spoilers: The Two Horse Job.  
Note: This chapter contains swearing.**_

Eliot took a deep breath as he looked around at the fields surrounding him. It had been much too long since he had last been here. Of course any amount of time was much too long. He loved this place. He loved the smell of horses and of newly plowed dirt. He loved the open fields stretching in to the distance on all sides. He loved the sound the horses' hooves made as the pounded down the track. He loved the way the breeze felt when it blew across his cheek.

'Yes,' Eliot thought to himself, 'he had been away far too long.' Of course he had a good reason for having been gone. Being held as a captive for six months was a darn good reason to be away. Unfortunately, given that is activities prior to his kidnapping had not exactly been legal, that was not an excuse that he could tell other people. Still there was a chance that she would forgive him anyway.

He drew another deep breath and knocked on the door. There was no answer. He paused for a moment then he knocked again. There was still no answer, but he heard a whinny coming from behind the house. Eliot smiled, wondering why he had not checked there first, as he walked around the house towards the barn. Aimee loved horses more than anything in the world.

Eliot paused looking into the barn. Aimee had her back to him, and she was working with one of the newer horses or at least one that Eliot did not recognize. Raising his fist, he rapped three times on the side of the entrance to the barn.

"Come in," Aimee called without looking up, "I'm going to put Serendipity back into his stall, and then I will be right with you." Eliot did not argue. He just watched patently as Amy took the horse and led him into an empty stall. Carefully she made sure that the latch was secure, then she turned to face her visitor.

"Amy," Eliot greeted her. He could practically see the joy in her eyes being replaced by anger.

"You," Aimee spat at him, "You." With that she turned on her heel and began to walk to the other end of the barn. Eliot had to speed walk to catch her, but his legs were still longer than hers so she did not get very far. He caught her wrist, and she spun on her heel to face him.

"Aimee," he told her calmly, "Listen to me."

"No," she told him angrily, "You listen to me you son of a bitch. I do not care what you have to say. I do not care why you are here. You promised me you would be back five and a half months ago. You are a liar, and you would deserve it if I never spoke to you again."

"I know," Eliot told her, not backing down.

"You know," Aimee exclaimed, "You know! You don't know anything!"

"Aimee," Eliot told her not knowing quiet what to say. He had known that she would be angry. However he had hoped that she would also be relieved or maybe even a little happy to see him.

"You don't know what its like to be in love with someone who leaves you every other month," Amy told him, "There are days where I wake up and I don't know if you are going to be there or not and I am done."

"Aimee," Eliot started again not knowing what to do. He knew if he did not do something, he would lose her forever.

"No," she told him, "I am done. I am done with you, and I'm done with your excuses. I'm done."

"Give me another chance," Eliot asked her.

"I've given you dozens of chances," she reminded him, "You always left."

"I had to," he told her, "There was no way around it."

Amy looked at him and shook her head once as a small sad smile curled her lips. "Funny," she told him, "You've always told me that if you something enough there is nothing in the world that can stop you. There is always a way, Eliot. Always. You just have to want it enough. Clearly you didn't."

Eliot did not answer. He could not argue with her. It broke his heart to know that she might be right about that, but when she phrased it the way she had there was nothing he could say. Those were his words, and he had always believed them to be true. He still did. Still, even though he had wanted things to work with Amy, he could not have given up the jobs he had been doing away from her. He was saving lives, and there lay the problem. He loved playing the hero too much to give it up. He was selfish and now he had lost her because despite that fact that she was still standing there, Eliot could tell she was already gone.

"I'm sorry," he told her quietly. He did not know what he was apologizing for. Maybe it was for leaving her so many times. Maybe it was for thinking she would keep waiting for him. Maybe it was for not working hard enough to making their relationship work. Maybe it was all those things and a dozen others he could not name.

She paused to look at him for a moment. "So am I," she said finally. Her tone was no longer carried anger or hostility, only regret. Their eyes met, and for a long moment there was nothing else. Then Amy turned and walked away, her had sliding out of Eliot's grasp as she did so. A few seconds later she disappeared from sight.

Eliot sighed. When he had first knocked on the door, he had though he had a chance of keeping her. Only now did he realize that that chance had been no better than a snowball's chance in hell.

_**Please review. I hope you liked it. I do. Please review. **_


	9. Parker: Rules

**_Chapter 9. Here is Parker's second chapter. I hope you like it. It started out going in one direction and just sort of wandered off in another direction. I think it turned out alright. Enjoy._**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own them**_

_**Spoilers: none**_

"Are you ready?" he asked her calmly as they stood outside the building.

Parker could not speak. She could only nod, which she did vigorously. Was she ready? Of course she was ready. this was her dream. Alright maybe not her dream, but it was certainly her ambition. For years and years she had dreamed that there would be a day when she could finally have something to call her own. She did not really care about the bangles and charms of other girls. Those were useless trash. This was not. This was big.

"Parker," he warned her, "It's going to be dangerous in there."

"I know," she replied her eyes glittering with anticipation. It had been a long time since she had done anything truly risky. She did not know whether it was that she had gotten better or that the people who had things worth stealing had gotten stupider. Either way, there for a while thievery had rather lost its thrill.

"When you go in there you need to keep a cool head," he continued.

"I know," she repeated. Keeping a cool head was crucial to making a successful steal. Even now, when she was doing it as much for pleasure as she was for the object, she needed to keep a cool head. Even a second of panic could mean the difference between success and failure…freedom and jail…life and death… She knew that as well as anybody else in this business.

"Get in. Get the diamond. Get out, "he instructed her.

"I know," she told toying with a fraying thread on her jacket. She did appreciate his concern, but she did not need his kibitzing. She had been doing this long before she met him, and she would be doing it after he left her life. She knew he would leave her because everybody did eventually. Actually the only thing that surprised her was that he had stuck around this long.

She was not complaining of course. She knew that, at one point or another, all people would part ways. That was just a fact of life, but he had been good to her. She had been a good thief before they met and now she was a great one. He had taught her everything he knew about thieving and strategy. She had been a willing student.

Of course she had only been a student. She had known that from the start. He would teach her and help her, but she would never be considered family. He had his own family. He had a wife. He had kids. He did not need her, and she did not him. They only had a business relationship.

"What happens if you get caught?" he asked her.

"I won't get caught," Parker replied dismissively.

"Parker," he told her almost angrily, "Don't get cocky. You aren't as good as you think you are."

Parker was not at all fazed by this harsh remark. She knew that she was not as good as the thought she was. No one was ever as good as they thought they were. People just had a tendency to glorify themselves. It was good to be reminded of the opposite. After all that was the number one rule: Never over estimate your abilities.

"Alright," she said slowly contemplating the question, "I guess I would escape their custody when the cops aren't looking."

"And if you can't?" he demanded.

Parker bit back her impulse to point out how stupid cops could be. Rule two was to never underestimate your opponent. "Then I will go to jail," she told him her patience beginning to wane as desire to begin heightened. She never was one for waiting on things.

"What will you not do?" he asked her.

"I will not come to you for help," she told him in a tone that could only be described as indifferent, "this is the job where I walk away."

"Very good," he told her.

No, Parker thought to herself, it was not very good. It was very bad. She did not want to be on her own again. Sure she was used to it, but that did not mean she liked it. There was some comfort in knowing that you had someone else to fall back on if you need help. It was like having a safety net, but life did not have a safety net. So now it was time to live with out one again.

"Yep," she replied with a false smile. There was a pause.

"You have been a good student," he told her. Parker almost smiled at the rare praised.

"You're a good teacher," she told him with a shrug.

"Thank you," he replied, "I like to think of myself as such."

"You should open a school," Parker remarked, and when he just looked confused, she clarified. "I mean that's what people who are good at teaching do right? They open schools and teach people stuff."

He laughed lightly. "Maybe someday I will."

"Right," Parker said shifting a little uncomfortably from one foot to the other. She could not figure out quiet what to do. One part of her wanted to draw out this moment because she would probably never see her mentor again. The other part of her wanted it to end so she could steal something. He made the decision for her.

"It is time for me to go," he said quietly but firmly.

"Then I guess this is good-bye," Parker murmured.

"There is no such thing as good-bye," he told her.

"The world is just to small," Parker finished for him.

"Exactly," he replied with a nod, "So let's part with the words until we meet again."

Parker considered her last and possibly favorite rule: rule three: The world is just too small for you ever to say good-bye for someone forever. She nodded in acceptance, and murmured four final words.

"Until we meet again."

_**Did you like it? Please Review.**_

_**Next Chapter: What does Hardison do when he is bored?**_


	10. Hardison: Geek Camp

**_Chapter 10. Alright so I apologize to all of you for the proofing on the last chapter. I was not exactly awake when I finished it so…yea…anyway… I would love to say I think this one is better, but as I still do not believe I can write Hardison with any competence… I hope you like it anyway._**

_**Spoilers: None**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Alec. Jason and Kevin are mine.**_

"This is awesome," Alec exclaimed looking around the room from his position on the top bunk.

"Uh huh," Jason muttered distractedly.

"I mean look at this," Alec said examining the wall next to him. "It's covered in quotes from the original Star Trek." He hopped down from his bunk and walked over to opposite wall. "And this wall is covered in quotes from Voyager." Alec's eyes went wide as he turned to the third wall. "This one's Deep Space Nine." He turned to the last one. "This one's Next Generation."

"What about the animated series from the seventies?" Jason asked more to pretend he was participating in conversation than because he actually cared about the answer.

"Um," Alec said slowly, "The animated series is crap."

"True," Jason agreed.

"But do you know how much time this must have taken?" Alec asked excitedly, "This room was built by true Trekkers."

Nana's birthday present to him this year was a week at geek camp. Alec had thought it sounded great when she told him about it, but now that he was actually here is was so much better. He had not known that each cabin had a theme or that Nana had signed him up for the Star Trek themed cabin. So here he was in an awesome cabin, at an awesome camp, with awesome roommates. Speaking of roommates…

"What are you doing?" Alec asked finally turning to watch Jason who had been furiously typing on the keyboard for the past half an hour.

Jason did not answer. He merely kept typing furiously. It was as if he had not even heard Alec speak. So Alec wandered over and watched the colors and words that were flying across Jason's screen.

"Are you hacking the Pentagon?" Alec asked curiously.

"Maybe," Jason replied with a raised eyebrow, though still not looking at Alec, "You gonna turn me in?"

Alec thought about it for a moment. "No," he replied, "But you're doing it wrong."

For the first time in nearly an hour Jason stopped typing and looked at Alec. "What?" he asked indignantly.

"You're never going to break that fire wall," Alec told him simply, "But this one," he took the mouse and clicked once, "is much easier to break though."

"Have you done this before?" Jason asked looking in awe at Alec.

"Only twice," he replied with a shrug, "then it got boring so I stopped."

"It got boring?" Jason asked incredulously. He had been working on hacking the Pentagon since he was ten years old and could never imagine a day where it got boring.

"Yes" Alec confirmed, "Once you break though twice there is really nothing interesting to do because every path leads you back to the ones you already know."

"Wait," Jason said slowly putting together the meanings of the words Alec had just uttered. "You've gotten though twice?"

"Yea," Alec replied watching Jason's screen. "Click there and you should be in." Jason did as he was told and sure enough list of Pentagon files came up on his screen. He scrolled though them in awe. He had never thought he would see the day where he would finally be able to see everything the Pentagon did. No more Big Brother for him.

"Your amazing," Jason said to his roommate, "What else do you do?"

"What do you mean?" Alec asked rather confused by the question, "I'm a high school student and then I plan to go to college, maybe MIT."

"Are you kidding?" Jason exclaimed.

"Um," Alec said growing more confused by the minute, "I don't think so."

"You don't need to finish high school or college with the skills you've got," Jason explained animatedly, "You could go into professional hacking and be one of the best in field."

"Are you serious?" Alec asked in amazement. He had really only done hacking for fun, but if he could bring in some money by doing it then he might look into it. "But how would I get a job without a high school diploma or a college degree?"

"If you do it right," Jason told him, "You will never need to work a day in your life expect for hacking. The world is going digital and in the next ten years everything will be accessible by computers. People like us will control the world."

"Wow," Alec said in amazement, "Wow."

"This is the age of the Geek," Jason exclaimed twirling in his swill chair with his hand raised above his head in triumph.

"The age of the Geek," Alec repeated quietly in awe. He liked that thought. Much of his school career had been awkward and lonely, but maybe the tables were finally turning in his favor. Maybe he had found something he was good at. He could use it to help Nana buy the things she had always wanted but never had money for. Suddenly there was a bang as the door to their room burst open and their other roommate, Kevin burst in.

"Dinner's ready," he told them with something suspiciously close to excitement in his voice, "Let's go now before it's all gone."

"But we just broke though the Pentagon security system," Jason told him with a glance at the screen, "Can't dinner wait?"

"Sure it can," Kevin replied good naturedly, "There is nothing that says we have to go to dinner. It's not like there is anything special on the menu. It is just the only night this week where the main course isn't listed as mystery meat."

Jason and Alec both leaped to there feet. "The Pentagon can wait," Jason exclaimed, "Get out of my way.'

Kevin and Alec double over in laughter as Jason took of across the lawn pushing the people who got in his way.

"You better shut down the computer," Kevin pointed to the screen. Alec nodded and looked down at the Pentagon page that was still up. He smiled to himself.

"Age of the Geek," he murmured as he turned of the computer, "Age of the Geek."

_**What did you think? Was it okay? Please tell me.**_


	11. Nate: A Nightmare Ending

**_Chapter 11. I am happy with this chapter. I had to rewrite it twice, but I am happy with I now. I hope you enjoy it because this is Nate's last chapter. Enjoy_**

_**Spoilers: None**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own them.**_

_**Note: There is one swear word, and it is a little darker that the previous chapters.**_

"Maggie," Nate murmured quietly in his sleep, "Maggie." His had reached over to touch his wife, but it found only empty space. Nate jarred awake and looked over to the other side of his bed. It was empty. Maggie was gone. Maybe she was just down the hall checking on Sam.

Slowly Nate pulled the blankets back and rose to his feet. The wood floor was cold on his bare feet, but he did not noticed as he padded down the hall. He reached the end of hall and spent a few moments in contemplation of the door in front of him. Behind that door lay his wife and son. All he had to do is open that door, and he would be with them.

Reaching forward, he pushed on the door. It swung open to reveal a dark room. Panic reared inside Nate. Quickly he flipped on the light switch. The room was bathed in a soft artificial light. There was no one there.

The bed was perfectly made. The curtains were open wide, letting the light of the starts and moon in. The bookshelf was perfectly organized. The floor was perfectly clean. Everything was just perfect except there was no one there.

Nate sank to his knees realizing that what he had believed to be a horrible nightmare was a reality. Sam was dead, and Maggie was gone. He was responsible for both things. Rising to his feet, he flipped off the lights. The truth was just too hard to bear. There were only two things that could alleviate this blinding pain and sense of failure: darkness and alcohol. Now that he had the first, he only needed the second.

-0- -0- -0-

It was not hard to find his liquor. It was still sitting on the counter where he had left it the night before…and the night before that…and really ever since Sam had died. Liquor was the only thing that made the pain go away. Unfortunately it made everyone else go away to. All his friends had drifted away from him after his son's death. Maggie had stayed the longest, but a few weeks ago she had left too.

Maggie was his one and only true love. She was the only woman he would ever love. With her gone and Sam dead, he had nothing left to live for. Actually, he had only kept on living this long because of Maggie. She needed him to be there. Of course he had not been there enough.

How many nights had he listened to her cry herself to sleep? Dozens and dozens… How many of those nights had he made any attempt to comfort her? None. Truth was he was too scared to do anything. Maggie was good at making concessions and taking care of people. He never had been.

He had brought home the money. He had been the one to keep the finances in order and the house under control. She had been the only to make the house into a home. She had been the one to nurse Sam when the boy was sick. She would get up at any hour of the night to rock him back to sleep after a nightmare. She would stay up long past midnight waiting for Nate to come home from a job. He was a good father and husband, but he was not Maggie.

She had given him everything she had to give, but in the end she had left to save herself…because she knew he never would. Some part of him knew that if he asked her, she would come back and take care of him, but he could not do that to her. It would destroy the little part of herself that she had managed to save. He had always thought that she was too good for him. Now he knew it…

Nate up ended the bottle in an attempt to get the last drops of whiskey out, but the bottle was dry. With a murmured curse threw the bottle against the far wall and rose to get a new one. However before he could move towards the counter, he saw something that stopped him in his tracks. The sideboard in the living room was covered in pictures…pictures he had never put there. Maggie must have set them there before she left.

He moved to look at them, and his heart caught in his throat. They were all pictures of him, Maggie, and Sam. Some were older than others, but all of them shared one attribute that separated them from anything that could be seen today. All the pictures showed a happy family.

They were no longer a happy family nor would they ever be again. Sam was dead. Maggie was brokenhearted and had left him. Then there was him… he was the cause of it all. So here he stood, alone in a dark house surrounded by bottles of alcohol. He really was a miserable bastard.

Almost as soon as Nate thought that, he noticed a folded piece of paper tucked under the corner of one of the frames. His name was written across the front of it in Maggie's elegant cursive handwriting. His hands were trembling as they unfolded the sheet and began to read.

_Nate~_

_I do not know when you will find this, but when you do, I hope it will be a suitable substitute for me because there are things I could never say out loud, but you need to hear them. _

_First, Sam's death was not your fault. I hope someday you will realize that. You could not have done any more to stop it then I could have, and God knows we both tried. _

_Second. I did not leave because I fell out of love with you. You were the best husband and father that a woman could ask for, but we both fell apart there at the end. Someone had to leave before we both self-destructed taking the other down with us._

_Third. Take care of yourself. I know that you think your life is over, but it isn't. I loved Sam as much as you did, but I think he would have wanted us to remember the happy times, not dwell upon the sad ones. So please take care of yourself. For him. For me._

_Much Love Always,_

_~Maggie_

Nate stared at the note for a few moments trying to take it in. He could not do it. There was too much there, too many truths he did not want to hear. In a few quick strides he crossed the room, and entered the kitchen. There on the counter sat his refuge and savior.

He grabbed a bottle of alcohol and began to drink it. The more he drank, the less he could remember, and soon all faded into a blissful blackness.

**_And that is where we leave Nate… I hope you liked this chapter. Please Review._**

_**Next Chapter: Sophie is being chased by a very familiar face. **_


	12. Sophie: Scripted

**_Chapter 12. Here is Sophie's last chapter. I hope that you enjoy it. I went for humor and I am never really sure if that is a good idea or not. Please do enjoy it. One last note: I was a little tiered when I wrote this so…forgive me…enjoy._**

_**Spoilers: None**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own these two.**_

"Here we are again," Sophie said coolly looking across the dusty room at her captor.

Nate smiled looking extremely satisfied with himself. "Here we are again," he repeated.

"Me alone, trapped, and helpless," Sophie replied almost indifferently, "clutching desperately to a priceless painting in the hope that I can escape with it or use it to buy my freedom."

"And I, the brave and valiant hero, have come to bring the elusive, sneaky," Nate caught sight of Sophie's glaring expression and quickly added, "cleaver, and stunningly beautiful thief."

"But the valiant and," Sophie looked at Nate's raised eyebrow, and rolled her eyes as she continued, "moderately handsome hero, has forgotten one key thing."

"Fortunately the thief has also forgotten something," Nate interrupted keen to get his part in.

"And what would that be?" Sophie asked placing her hands on her hips.

"Our thief has been alone far to long and is over come with longing for human company," Nate paused before adding, "Especially if it comes from the valiant hero she has come to adore."

"Except out hero does not know two things," Sophie replied with the beginnings of a smirk starting to turn the corners of her mouth, "One, the thief is an accomplished actress and therefore very good at pretending adoration. Two, the thief has been seeing someone, which of course makes the hero very jealous."

"The thief forgets that the hero is married," Nate told her, and they began to circle each other.

"Of course the thief doesn't," Sophie said widening her eyes in an attempt to portray innocence, "She has been sleeping with the hero's wife."

There was a loud crash as Nate tripped over the coffee table they had been pacing around and fell to the floor. Sophie burst into laughter and had to sit down on the couch to keep from also collapsing onto the floor. Nate slowly rose to his feet and took a seat beside her on the sofa. Slowly her laughter subsided, and she looked up at him.

"We sound like a low budget Hollywood movie," she told him.

"Yes," he agreed with a laugh, "we do."

The reason for that was that they had been in the same position many times before. Then one time the two of them had been on a train for some reason Sophie no longer remembered. A string of conversations had led to one about how their meetings could almost be made into a Hollywood script, and the rest was almost inevitable. However the upshot was that by the time they got off the train, they had written the beginning of a rather cheesy script. A few months later, Nate had found the rest of it stuffed in his mailbox with a note, which had simply told him to read it. He had not yet had time to do this.

"You really should have read the script, " she told him as though reading his thoughts.

"I realize that now," he replied stilled a little surprised by the scripting. There was a pause, but he had to ask, "Did you really write that in the script?"

"Of course I did," she replied serenely, "After the thief needs an accomplice to help her take down the hero who had become more meddlesome than interesting."

"So the obvious solution is that the wife and the thief are lovers, and they come together to take down the hero, who is only trying to restore order in the world," Nate asked torn between incredulity and amazement.

"If it was the obvious solution I wouldn't have picked it," she chided him, "anyway the wife dies towards the end."

Nate shook his head. "You have no future as a Hollywood script writer," he told her.

"Why?' Sophie asked with a failed attempt to look hurt or at least offended by his comment.

"Because," he told her, "you go for the unexpected and the good guy doesn't win."

"That depends on who you think is the good guy," Sophie murmured quietly. That was one of the few great divides between her and Nate. They were on opposite sides of the same game. Nate saw himself as the good guy. Sophie, when she was on a job, saw him as a bad guy. They fell into silence for a few moments.

"What have you been doing?" she asked him after a while if only to break the silence.

"Um," he replied, "recovering paintings and valuable artifacts from those who steal them. And you?"

"Stealing paintings and valuable artifacts," she replied with a hint of humor on her tone, "What a pair we make."

"Quite a pair indeed," Nate agreed quietly, "but we could be an even better pair if you gave me that painting."

The two of them both turned to look the painting that had been leaning against the wall the entire time. It said something about their relationship that Nate had not grabbed it the first chance he had and run.

"But I like that one," Sophie told him with her nose wrinkled in distaste, "I gave you back the last three, and these people were jerks anyway."

"IRS doesn't care if their clients are jerks," Nate reminded him.

"Of course they don't," she replied, "They're jerks too."

"Except me of course," he teased her.

"No," she replied after a moment of consideration, "you can be a jerk too."

"Thanks,' he told her sarcastically.

"You're welcome," she said distractedly. Then she stood up. "Sorry," she told him, "I like this one too much to give it back," she walked over to it, "come and get it if you want it."

"You're cornered," he reminded her not moving from the couch. That was a mistake. He barely had time to register the gleam in her eye before she pulled out a gun and fired a single shot into the lights on the ceiling. Sparks flew from the light creating a wall of flickering light that Nate did not dare pass, and Sophie knew it.

"No," she replied calmly, "I'm not. If you had read the end of the script you would know that." Picking up the painting with one hand she pushed open a concealed door with the other. Then she looked back at Nate. "Have a good day," she told him with a cheery wave. Then she disappeared.

**_Did you like it? I figured since Sophie crossed over into Nate's chapters, he should get to visit hers. Please reviews._**

_**Next Chapter: What exactly did Eliot do when he was liberating all those countries?**_


	13. Eliot: Always the Hero

**_Chapter 13. I know it is late. I'm sorry. Finals are not making my life easy for which I apologize. Anyway. I will try to get the last two chapters up Thursday and Saturday respectively. I really want this story done by the time Leverage starts. Anyway. I hope that you like this chapter._**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Eliot. The other four I do.**_

_**Spoilers: None**_

'This should be easy,' Eliot thought to himself as he pushed the door of the decrepit looking house open. It swung wide with a loud creak to reveal the dingy room beyond. Eliot grimaced at the sight. It might not look like much, but somewhere in the cellar there was a large bag of gold that was more or less unguarded. It should be the easiest job he had ever done.

Quickly he walked across the room and pushed open the door on the other side. This one made no sound and felt much sturdier that the one before it. Eliot knew that beyond this slab of wood would be a room glittering with all the finery gold could buy. The antechamber he was in now was just a guise. This was no poor man's house. It belonged to someone very rich and very powerful.

He opened the door and stepped into the second room. To his disgust he found that he had been wrong. This room was not covered in the finest things money could buy. It was covered in the most precious things that could be stolen. He saw lockets, rings, and gemstones hanging from the walls and knew without knowing that they were wartime plunders. Some part of him wondered if these treasures had been left behind, wrenched from dead bodies, or ripped from the necks of the living. The other part of him did not want to know.

"Focus Eliot," he murmured quietly under his breath, "you don't know how much time you have." His eyes darted around the perimeter of the room. He knew that the door to the basement was in here somewhere. He just did not know where. Then he saw it in the far corner. Wasting no time, he made his way though the door and onto the stairs below.

Moments later he felt the surface below his feet shift from rickety wooden steps to solid concrete. The air around him had a musty quality, but it had been disturbed recently. Suddenly he knew why.

"He's coming," a trembling voice whispered from somewhere outside Eliot's very limited range of vision. Slowly he began to move towards the voice.

"No," another voice screamed from the other side of the room, "Take me this time. Leave her alone. It's me you want. Choose me instead."

"Shh," a third voice hissed, "I don't think it's him. The footsteps are wrong."

"Who's there," the second voice called out. The strength and authority in her voice made it very clear that she was the one in charge.

"My name's Eliot," Eliot told them in what he hoped was a calm reassuring voice. He did not know why these women were here, but he knew that it was not a good thing. This basement was barely fit to walk though let alone stay in. Quickly he pulled out a flashlight and turned it on so they could see his face.

"What do you want?" the woman to his left, who he had pegged as the leader, asked.

"He wants to help us," the first voice whispered hopefully.

"Don't be stupid," the third replied, "he is here for the gold."

"Let him talk," a fourth voice said almost serenely. The immediate silence told Eliot that he had been wrong. Voice three was not the leader, this woman was.

"Well," he said slowly considering each word he spoke, "I did come for the gold, but if you need help…" his voice trailed off not actually knowing if help was needed and not wanting to be in the house any longer than possible. Still, he was not one to walk away from someone who need help…especially women and children.

"We would never want to be a burden, " the fourth voice told him slowly, clearly putting as much thought into her words as Eliot had.

"Hell yes we would," the second voice interjected forcefully, "We've been here far too long."

"Forgive Tess," the fourth voice assured Eliot, "She is the newest addition to our…group." The last word was pronounced in a way that left Eliot in no doubt that this group was not voluntary.

"This isn't a group," Tess replied in disgust, "We were taken from our homes in the middle of the night and force to stay in this basement until he comes to get one of us. What happens upstairs is only worse."

"Quiet Tess," the fourth voice spoke sharply for the first time.

Eliot weighed his choices. He could use the time he had now and save these women's lives, or he could get the gold and save his own because if he did not get the gold people would not be happy. Still there was really no competition.

"Come on," he told them, "You're getting out of here."

"See," the first voice said excitedly, "he wants to help us. Did you hear that, Tanya?"

"I heard," the third voice replied, "I heard Marnie."

"Marnie, Tanya, Natasha," Tess hissed, inadvertently clueing Eliot into the fourth woman's name, "let's go."

"Do any of you know a back exit?" Eliot asked.

"I do," Natasha replied, "I'll lead. Tess and Marnie, take care of Tanya. Eliot, bring up the back." Eliot did not question the other woman giving orders. She was clearly in complete control of the other three. "Let's go."

Together the group moved back up the steps and though the door. Eliot was struck again by how poor the security was and realized that there had to be something in place. Even the most chauvinistic pigs had decent security systems…or guards. As though fate was reading Eliot's mind a male voice suddenly called out, "code 22."

He swore silently. He needed a new plan quickly or he would be arrest and not even have any gold to show for it. "Run," he hissed to the four women.

"Tanya can't," Tess hissed back and for the first time Eliot noticed that one of the women looked distinctly pregnant. He mentally cursed his lack of observation skill, but it was to late to undo that. So he did the next best thing.

"All of you get as far away as you can," he told them, "I will keep the guards busy." There was an exchange of looks between Tess and Natasha, and silently Natasha fell back to take Tess's place by Tanya's side. Tess fell back to stand with Eliot as the other's took off towards the woods. "Go," Eliot hissed at the woman beside him as the guards came running out of the house.

"Hell no," Tess hissed back, "I want to fight. Stay on my side if you know what's good for you."

"As you wish," Eliot muttered grudgingly.

-0- -0- -0-

The train blew its whistle, and Eliot looked at Tess. "I think that's your cue," he told her gently, and she nodded.

"Well," Tess murmured, "Thank you for everything." Her arms wrapped around his body and pulled him into a quick kiss. Then, before he could think of anything else to say, she had disappeared on to the train. Moments later she stuck her head out the window above him.

"Hey Tess," he shouted up to her, "I am always going to be on your side in a fight."

"Good choice," she shouted back with a laugh. "Hey Eliot," she called as the train slowly began to move, "Check your pocket." She smiled one last time, then disappeared inside the car as the train picked up speed and sped away. Only once it was out of sight did Eliot reach into his pocket.

He could feel two things that had not been there before: a bag of coins and a piece of paper. Slowly he unfolded the paper and read the first line.

_Here is the gold you wanted. I hope it helps with what ever you need it for…_

A smile curled Eliot's as he looked back down at the paper and continued to read the tiny cursive script.

_**Did you like it? Please tell me. This week is a little crazy and next week is only going to be worse…so I could use something to make me smile. :-) **_


	14. Parker: Interesting

_**Chapter 14. Wow. It is almost over. I am shocked. It has gone so fast. One the other hand Leverage returns on Sunday so that is even better. I hope you like this chapter. It is Parker's last. Kind of random, but then again so is she. Enjoy.**_

_**Disclaimer: She isn't. Jimmy is.**_

_**Spoilers: None**_

It was so beautiful. From this one position she could see to the horizon in every direction. It was truly amazing. Suddenly her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she glared down at the vibrating lump. Some days she hated the fact that her phone had really amazing coverage.

"What do you want?" Parker hissed picking up the phone.

"What did I tell you about going up in the crows nest?" a male voice asked from the other end of phone.

Parker looked around at the ocean around her before speaking. "I'm not in the crows nest," Parker replied, "why would you say that?"

"Look down," the voice replied calmly trying to hide the bemusement in his voice.

Parker looked down to see a figure waving at her from on deck. Quickly she looked back out at the ocean as if that would stop him from seeing her. "Right," she replied grudgingly, "What do you want?"

"I want you to get down from there," he told her annoyed, "Right now Parker."

Parker glared out over the water, and for a very long moment considered throwing her phone into the sparking blue ocean. However that seemed like a bad idea so instead she replied. "Fine." Then with a sharp snap she closed her phone.

-0- -0- -0-

"Damn that was fast," a man standing on deck commented as Parker's feet touched the deck scarcely a minute later.

"Yes Jimmy," Parker replied almost patronizingly, "I can climb up and down the ropes faster than anyone else on this ship, "We knew that already."

"Well," Jimmy pointed out, "I knew you were fast, but I never knew you could go from top to bottom in under a minute. Where did you learn that?"

For a brief moment a picture of cables and an elevator shaft came into Parker's head. Quickly she pushed them aside. Jimmy knew nothing of her real life. As far as he knew, she was kid from the states who was just trying to get home for Christmas. In hindsight, she realized that this story probably would have worked better if it had not been June, but Jimmy had not questioned her. He had just hidden her away until they were far enough from port that they would not turn back.

"Summer camp," she said suddenly realizing that she had never answered his question.

"Cool," he replied interestedly, "I went to a camp in York when I was a kid. The high ropes course was always my favorite."

"Mine too," Parker agreed fervently. Jimmy was one of the very few people she had ever met that she actually liked. He was easy to talk to and never made her feel awkward.

"My parents always hated it though," he laughed at the thought, "I think they though I was going to fall and kill myself or something. They always wanted me to go into some safe profession like a banker or a clerk. What about you?"

Parker only barely managed to avoid cringing at the mention of her family. After all, she had never had one. She had only ever known the succession of foster people who thought she might be an okay addition to theirs. She never was. They always got rid of her before she had been there for six months. She just never seemed to belong anywhere…until she had found her place as a thief. That was the life she loved and place she belonged.

"Um my parents were always very supportive of what I wanted to do," Parker said finally. She realized with a shock that she had fallen without thinking into the fantasy she had had since she was a kid: the fantasy where she had loved parents and siblings who really cared about her.

"That's great," he told her sincerely, "What do you do for a living by the way?"

"Um," she replied thinking quickly, "I work with banks, but it's just boring consultant stuff. Nothing interesting." She waved her hand in the air as if dismissing the topic. Jimmy seemed to take a hint, but he also knew from her inflection on the word 'boring' that her job was anything but.

"You got any siblings?" he asked following her along the railing up to the bow of ship.

"Yea," Parker replied with a certain ease, as she looked out over the water, "Two brothers." Somehow she felt just as safe here, with the cool ocean breeze blowing past her cheeks, as she did when she was in the elevator shafts, which were the closest thing to a home that she had ever known. "How about you?"

"I have an older sister," he told her with a fond smile, "her name's Sophie." The smile slid a little. "Haven't seen her in years. She went into the theater and then just disappeared." The smile reappeared. "I'd love to see her again though. She was always really nice to me."

"I know what you mean," she replied with a dreamy smile, "I can't wait to meet my brothers."

"Meet?" Jimmy asked confused looking at Parker who realized her blunder a few seconds too late.

"Yea," she said trying to brush it off, "I haven't seen them in so long that it will feel like meeting whole new people. They are growing up so fast."

"Right," Jimmy agreed, clearly not really believing her but letting it slide anyway.

"It's really pretty out here," Parker murmured after a few moments of silence.

"I know," he replied quietly coming to stand very close behind her, "That's why I could never go into an office job. I love the open air too much. I don't know how you do it,"

A small smile crept across Parker's lips. "I don't know how I do it either," she said taking more pleasure than she probably should have in irony of her words, "but there's never really a down moment either. So that makes it better. Things are always interesting."

"As long as it's good interesting."

Parker smiled. "In my line of work," she told him, "There ain't any other kind."

_**Did you like it? I thought it was really fun and light and probably the easiest chapter I have written for this entire story.**_

_**Oh and…do what you will with my description of Jimmy's sister…**_

_**Next chapter: One very good reason why hackers should stay behind their computers.**_


	15. Hardison: Advice

_**Chapter 15. This is Hardison's last chapter, and my one regret about this story is that we had to go out on him because I still do not believe I can write him competently. Ah well…I gave it my very best shot and I think it came out all right. I hope that you enjoy it and I thank all of you who have stuck with it this long. I'm going to go now because Leverage is on in seven minutes.**_

_**Disclaimer: Not mine**_

_**Spoilers: None**_

"Should have thought of this years ago," Hardison chortled to himself as he placed the code cracker next the electronic lock of the door that led to the bank vaults. This was as easy as taking candy from a baby. His fake paper work and id had gotten him in the door. Now his electronic code crackers were getting him in to the money. It was such a beautiful plan.

"There we go baby," he told his code cracker as it ascertained the last digit of the code. This stealing stuff was just too easy. Thieves always looked down on him for sitting behind a computer all day, but not anymore. He was almost done completing a bank heist, and then they would not dare look down on him. He would rein a supreme leader above all the measly little—

"WheOhh!" WheOhh!" WheOhh!"

Hardison jerked from his thoughts as the sirens wailed around him. Looking down he saw that he was standing in the middle of a laser field. Red beams were bouncing around the walls and ceiling. However the only one that really concerned Hardison was the beam that was bouncing from the opposite wall towards the wall behind him. At least that was where he assumed the beam would go…had it not been broken by his leg.

"Shit," he hissed under his breath. Looking down the offending beam, he held out his hands and spoke softly as if to placate it. "Good laser beam," he murmured, "Now I'm going to take a step back. You just turn of that alarm, and I'll leave." Hardison took a step back but that had no effect what so ever so he took a deep breath and decided it was time to implement plan B.

Without another thought he took off running up the hall, but he had barely made it thirty feet before he collided with a security guard. The guard grabbed him by the wrists and slammed him against the wall.

"A mi no me gusta la carreterra," Hardison mumbled in Spanish with a valiant attempt to sound like he was terrified. Well actually that part was not to hard because he was rather scared. Who would not be when they were about to be handcuffed by law enforcement officers in on of the seven countries in which he was wanted?

"What?" the guard asked confused, "what are you rambling about."

"El va alli," Hardison said slowly. It had been a very long time since he had used Spanish so he was a little out of practice. So to emphasize his message he pointed down the hall he had just run up.

"What did he look like?" another guard asked eagerly.

"Largo, blanco, hombre," he replied gesturing towards the end of the hall. There was a long pause, then the guards took off running down the hall. Hardison took off in the other direction marveling at his luck. If any of the guys in that group had ever taken a day of Spanish in their life…he would have been screwed.

Quickly he made his way to the elevator and darted inside. The doors had almost closed when they were wrenched back apart. About half a dozen of the guards filed into the tiny elevator so that Hardison could barely move let alone escape.

"Que?" he asked anxiously.

"We're going to get this stupid bastard," on of the guards muttered more to himself than to anybody else, "he broke in just to prove he could."

"Are you sure?" one of the other guards asked a little more nervously.

"Of course," the first guard replied, "Why wouldn't he take something if he came for the goods?"

"Well there wasn't anything in those vaults," a third guard replied, "but any decent thief would have known that."

"So he just did this to rub in our face," the first guard concluded, "and now we're going to rub it in his."

Hardison was very close to vibrating with anxiety when the elevator doors opened. Quickly he pushed to the front of the group and elevator. Then he pulled out his phone and hit a button. The doors of the elevator slammed closed and began to rise towards the top floor. Then he practically ran towards the exit.

When he reached the doors he was delighted to find them open. He took another step forward, and a bullet whizzed past his ear. He broke into a full run and sped though the doors and out onto the street. Bullets followed him as he sprinted across the small town's main street into an alley where he had left his van.

Jumping in he turned the keys, which were still in the ignition, and hit the gas pedal as he sped onto the street. He could hear the bullets hitting the van and knew one of the back windows had been shattered. However none of this seemed to be important compared getting the heck out of town.

-0- -0- -0-

Several hours of frantic driving later, he finally stopped the car at a turnoff on the side of a secluded piece of a country road. Then he got out and walked around to the back of the truck. Pulling the doors open, he looked angrily at the bulletin board he had attached to the left hand door.

Carefully, he pulled a tiny piece of paper out from under the pushpin that had been holding it up. For a very long moment he looked down at and reread the words he had memorized:

Today is a good day to try something new.

Hardison glared at it for a long moment before letting in flutter out of his hand and come to rest on the ground below.

"That," he told himself fervently as he walked back around to the front of the van, "is the very last time that I take advice from a fortune cookie."

**_Thought i'd go out on a humorous note there... hehe_**

_**The Spanish reads something like this:**_

_**I do not like the highway.**_

_**He went that way (or something to that effect)**_

_**Long, White, man**_

_**What**_

_**Alright. So I hope you have enjoyed it. Please give it one last review on your way out. Any I hope you all enjoy Leverage because that is where I'm going.**_

_**Peace, Love, Forensics.**_


End file.
